All language subtitles for Elsbeth.S03E14.1080p.10bit.WEBRip.6CH.x265.HEVC-PSA

Straighter.

As in "less crooked,"
if that's too complex for you.

Jules.

Are we at an octogenarian
forehead festival?

No.

Then why are there
so many wrinkles?

Steam every table now.

A Rockefeller
is debuting tonight.

Sorry, Izzy.

Ms. Langford.

Mrs. Langford.

- Can I help you?
- You'd better.

My daughter Plum needs
to attend this ball next year.

Is that so?

There are other debutante balls

whose barriers to entry
are much lower than mine.

Ms. Langford.

- Mrs.
- Uh, do you know who I am?

- Do you know who my father was?
- Of course I do.

But it seems
you don't know who I am.

A Langford.

Of the railroads family,
I presume.

Anyway, you are aware
that my wife Gwen...

- Your third wife, correct?
- Gwen is a Wallace McKee.

We were married here
in this very ballroom.

No, that was your second wife.

The Barlowes
and the Wallace McKees

practically built New York.

Oh, my, what calluses
you must have.

We belong here.

Who belongs here
is at my discretion.

And whilst the proceeds
of this event may go to charity,

my invitations
are not philanthropic.

Plunk... I'm sorry,
Plum, is it?

She just doesn't fit.

But my daughter
is at the very top...

Please, let's avoid
the shame of begging, shall we?

Money doesn't get you
everything in my world.

Your daughter Plum just shines.

Or maybe she needs some powder.

Oh, she does look beautiful.

Despite that Hollywood trash
on her arm.

Brando is a much
sought-after escort

on the debutante circuit.

You have a vintage car
collection, correct?

- Mm-hmm.
- His father just signed on to

the Fast & Furiousfranchise.

You'll have to excuse me.

I have a tight agenda
to attend to.

The lighting is gorgeous.
Would you like a photo?

Oh. We can't waste
friendly lighting.

Not at your age.
I'm sorry, our age.

Oh, could you unlock it?

I want the best possible filter.

- Plum, fix your hair.
- See?

Mom, I told you the stylist
didn't know what she was doing.

They just do not use hair spray
the way they used to.

Pesky ozone layer.

Okay. Go.

Oh, uh, Gwen.

You have food in your teeth.
Or is that plaque?

Okay.

Oh, never mind.

The lighting is terrible.

What's "au naturel"?

Buffy.

Look. I tell you girls
every year,

you'll rue the red.

You didn't tell me that.

Do you want my help or not?

I've tried to clean them.

Worst case,
we do have extra gloves.

Honestly, I'd be psyched
not to have to wear

my Aunt Jackie's
gross old gloves.

Your wife is causing a scene.

Gwen? Oh, damn it.

- Apologies. Your first wife.
- Paulina?

- Is here?
- She won't leave until she speaks with you.

She'll meet you in
the second-floor Astor Suite.

Thank you. Tell my wife Gwen...

nothing.

Hot Mama, yeah.

Hot Mama.

Oh, man.

- I finished the presentation cards.
- Ah.

Rouge BoucheBuffy
got lipstick on her gloves.

Where are the spares?

There's one pair left

- on the top shelf.
- Only one?

And why is that, pray tell?

Several debs have been smoking
and stained their gloves.

What is the pulmonary propaganda

behind young people
smoking again?

Do we have any club soda?

Or have there been a rash
of upholstery stainings

- I'm unaware of?
- On the bottom shelf.

- I can take care of it.
- No, no.

You get out there
and keep your eye

on the little nicotine freaks.

And no more stains.
Do you understand me?

Where's Paulina?

I will not let her ruin
Plum's debut.

The way you ruined mine?

Your what?

If Paulina doesn't understand...

Sterling, shut up.

44 years ago, at this very ball,
you destroyed my life.

It was my moment
to ascend in society.

And everything was perfect.

My presentation.

My curtsy.

My dress.

Then you humiliated me.

44 years later,

you threw around your name
and your money

and you forced your way
into my ball

for your perfect third wife

and your perfect
prunus daughter.

You decided you had
to have your way.

So I decided
I finally get to have mine.

Oh, my God.

You're Half-Off.

Whatever's the matter?

Where's my dad?

He'll be here any minute.

Like Brando? Where are they?

I'm sure your father will be
back for Deb of the Year.

If not, I will find him.

Now smile.

Don't worry, dear.

This could still be
a big night for you.

But first, fix your hair.

Presenting...

Miss Plum Wallace McKee Barlowe,

daughter of Mr. and Mrs.
Sterling Barlowe,

granddaughter of the late
Mr. and Mrs. Albert Barlowe.

And now,

for The 72nd Empire City
Debutante Ball Deb of the Year,

I'm pleased to announce...

Miss Plum Wallace McKee Barlowe.

Sterling has been stabbed.

And he's dead.

That's not red velvet.

No to crybaby Alec Bloom,

still crying over
his privileged childhood.

Wah.

Paid for by the Coalition
of Concerned Voters of New York.

Can't wait to dive into the pomp
and circumstantial evidence

of this case.

The what?

It's a debutante ball.

No way.

I thought it was,
like, ten weddings.

The victim is Sterling Barlowe.

Fatal stabbing. I was about
to speak with the ball director.

What a terrible thing to happen
at such a beautiful event.

And mine, at that.

I'm Izzy Langford

of the Empire City
Debutante Ball.

We're Elsbeth Tascioni
and Detective Nina Taylor

of the NYPD.

Did you know the victim?

He was a ball attendee,
and he's a Barlowe.

Of theBarlowes.
Everyone knows him.

How terrible that his wife
discovered him.

We're just starting
our investigation.

- Who is his wife?
- His third wife.

Gwen Wallace McKee Barlowe.

And, yes, of theWallace McKees.

Is "the" part
of their last names?

I noticed the blood on the sword

as soon as they began
cutting the cake.

Wow, an actual sword.

You must have good eyes.

Exacting standards are how

I pull off this event
every year.

- Who was holding the sword?
- Brando.

Well, Plum,
but it was Brando's sword.

Which makes perfect sense,
because Sterling

was furious that Brando
was Plum's escort

for Deb of the Year and not him.

But I told him,
no matter how unhappy he was,

I would not break protocol.

Escorts escort debs,
not fathers.

Why are there plums?

So, I assume that Brando will be
placed under arrest soon.

Weapons, fury and male ego?

What a deadly combination.

Sorry, Izzy.

They're demanding
to speak with you.

Oh. If you'll excuse me.

My assistant Jules
will fill you in

- on any details you may need.
- Mm-hmm.

Clearly, a lot of them.

- Hello.
- Ooh. Is it hot in here,

or, uh, am I just confused?

Okay, I understand
what a deb is,

but who or what is a plum?

And don't forget Brando.

- Right.
- Brando

was the escort, or date,

for Mr. Barlowe's daughter Plum.

- Oh.
- Oh.

Uh, Plum was named
Deb of the Year,

the highest honor
of the deb circuit.

That sounds like a big deal.

So, Sterling was furious

that Brando was escorting Plum

for Deb of the Year and not him?

That's news to me.

Uh, Mr. Barlowe forgot

there even was
a Deb of the Year ceremony.

He told me he was itching
to go home after cocktails.

Jules.

Now.

Sorry.

So, Sterling was either
killed at a ball

he didn't even care about...

Or he cared so much
that he died for it...

according to thelzzy Langford.

Elsbeth.
What are you doing here?

I have concerns.

The Coalition
of Concerned Voters

seemed like just the place
to bring them.

You used me.

You twisted what I told you
about Alec.

It wasn't anything you said.

I could just see in your eyes,
you don't trust Alec Bloom.

So why should anyone else?

Well, this is about facts,
not mind reading.

I told you everything I know
about your late husband.

Now you tell me everything
you've found out about Alec.

You didn't tell me anything
I didn't already know

about Milton.

Like murder?

There were things
I didn't want to acknowledge,

but deep down...

I knew who I married.

What do you have on Alec?

Or is this just
politics as usual?

One team has to win.

This isn't a game, Elsbeth.

Alec is that kind
of slick populist

who has the potential to upend

the entire power structure
of New York.

And that resonates
with enough people

that you have to tear him down
at all costs?

Show me the proof
behind your campaign.

Do you need it?

Or do you already know enough
to make your own decision?

You think the new ads
are working on voters?

I don't know.
They're working on me, though.

I'm not sure what to do.
I mean, do I talk to Alec?

Well, that sounds
like a good start.

Just trust yourself, Elsbeth.

So, what do you got?

Brando Wilde is in holding.

He was M.I.A. for a portion
of the evening,

the blood on his sword
does match Sterling Barlowe's.

- We're waiting on prints.
- I can't believe

that Brando is the son
of theCaine Wilde.

The debutante ball
was comprised of who's whos.

"Who" being the operative word.

I don't recognize
most of the names.

These are very powerful
New York families.

Doing weird,
outdated society rituals

with their unwed daughters.

Ugh, prom was bad enough for me.

Yeah, my daughter did cotillion.

The table alone for
the Empire City Ball is $30,000.

Huh. Well, I'll stop
my complaining.

I don't know.

An evening with your parents.

All eyes on you.

Curtsies.

Sounds sort of enchanting.

In a transactional sort of way.

But transactional
with beautiful gowns.

Only Brando's prints
on the sword handle.

Sterling's blood
and cake on the blade.

You know, I love cake
as much as the next person,

but that Izzy sure seemed good

at identifying blood
versus red velvet

at a distance.

Was she, now?

Go talk to Brando.

I didn't kill anyone.

I mean,
do you know who my father is?

Yes. Is it true
that he's gonna play

"Crocodile" Dundee on Broadway?

He's trying to intimidate us.

Oh.

Well, does your father know
where you are right now?

Please don't-don't-don't call
my dad.

So, you expect us to believe
that someone took your sword,

killed Sterling Barlowe,
put the sword back...

without leaving prints...
and you didn't notice?

Yes.

That sounds a lot like
my dad's movie Scapegoat 5.

Ooh, it actually does.

Well, Izzy Langford

said that Sterling
was upset with you.

Did you two have a fight?

A-a fight?

R.I.P. to the dude, but, uh...

he was a little bit
too old to fight.

Did you ever leave
your sword unattended?

No.

Well, uh, actually, yeah?

I was ocupadofor a bit.

We're gonna need you
to elaborate.

Well, check my texts.

But, uh, not my photos.

Um... well,
that's a lot of texts.

From a lot of women.

Thanks.

It's that random number.

Um, "au naturel"?
It means "naked."

I-I looked it up.

Um, so, I got au naturel
and I put my sword

in the hallway
just like it says.

And, uh, you know, I w...
I waited, and I'm all pumped up

- to do, you know...
- Au naturel things. Got it.

But then nobody came.

It's a bummer, you know?

I'll never find out
who, uh, Hot Mama was.

Oh, don't you worry.
We'll find out.

I am not Hot Mama.
What do you take me for?

- Oh, sorry, we just...
- Do you think

I would cheat when Sterling
isn't out of town?

Do you have any idea how much
money I would stand to lose?

The text message
was sent from your phone,

and you discovered
your husband's body.

It's what
we would call "strange."

What's strange is, my husband
was murdered with a sword.

Check my messages.

But not my photos.

I never texted Brando.

Does he want me to?

The text isn't here.

Not even in your deleted folder.

But you could have
permanently deleted it.

I don't know how to do that.

Did anyone else use your phone?

A few people took photos
of me and Plum.

Izzy offered,
but the lighting was terrible.

She does have
exacting standards.

That she does.

Which is why
this is all my fault.

I made Sterling
get Plum into the ball.

It was just so embarrassing
that Plum hadn't made

her debut there when all
the other important kids had.

It must be so fun for the girls.

Everyone is there.

- It's great for networking.
- Oh, sure.

Like internships.

Plum already oversees
a staff of over 80

at the mental health charity,
but sure.

Internships.

Oh, here's
our little intern now.

Plum, please help Mommy
with her alibi.

She was with me all night,
until she found my dead dad.

We are so sorry
about your father.

We were told he was upset
Brando was escorting you

for Deb of the Year.

That may have led them
to have a fight.

A fight over me? No.

My dad couldn't stand Brando,
but that's not why.

- Then why?
- He's new money.

Hollywood. It's not a good look.

Brando was just hot arm candy.

Debutantes might be
an antiquated tradition,

but no one there
is fighting over anyone's honor,

least of all Brando Wilde.

But if your father hated Brando,

then why did you pick him
as an escort?

I didn't. Izzy did.

I was surprised when Izzy
invited Plum to the ball.

But they're
theWallace McKee Barlowes.

I'd suggested Plum
in years past,

but Izzy always said no.

"You don't know what
you're talking about, Jules."

"Focus more on not
mouth breathing, Jules."

We hear they made a large
donation to the ball's charity.

These people will always find
a way to get what they want.

A-And I've been axe-throwing
enough times

to know that weaponry
and alcohol were a bad idea.

The ball hasn't had swords
for decades for that reason.

So why bring them back?

I wanted to hearken back
to the old days.

I'm embarrassingly nostalgic.

Apologies for my delay.

I was defusing an upset parent.

Oh. Murder is upsetting.

No, I somehow announced
a parent's title wrong.

More important than murder
to these people.

It's so glamorous.

What's the age cutoff
for debutantes?

About the same
as for your jacket.

Ha ha. Good one.

So,

what was Sterling doing
in the Astor Suite?

That was the holding area
for families before the ball.

- Oh.
- Who knows how they ended up in that room?

- They?
- Sterling and Brando,

the boy with the bloody sword.

You just cannot trust new money.

Or oh-so-trustworthy old money.

Did you offer to take a photo
using Gwen's phone?

That is something
I might have done,

but I cannot recall
specifically.

You don't remember
using the phone

of someone who gave you
$2 million?

It's quite tacky
to discuss money.

- Ah.
- Why did it take

that donation
to let Plum into your ball?

She's very accomplished.

Oh, this is a world
of accomplishment.

Another word for "privilege."

I feel your disdain.

But this ball
is a significant cultural event.

Enough to grace the covers
of little-known magazines

over the years
such as Dress Upand Life.

Speaking of "over the years,"

Sterling told Jules

that he didn't even remember
Deb of the Year,

which means that he was
at a ball before.

Mm-hmm. 1982.

And that is me.

With '80s hair.

Aw.

Wait, so you knew Sterling?

It's my job to know everyone
worth knowing to some degree.

So, the children
who attend today

are children of people
who attended before?

It's called nepotism.
It makes the world go round.

Or lopsided.

I don't mean to be tacky,

but it's so expensive.

- How did yourparents...
- Oh, well, I will say,

my father was very lucky
he had only one daughter.

Why did you pair
Brando with Plum

if you're so against new money?

I do intensive research to make
the perfect deb-escort pairings.

Why were they perfect?

- Isn't it obvious?
- No.

They both speak English,

they both love movies...
and height.

Brando is a very good height.

But I will not blame myself
for what happened.

Boys that age are born to hurt.

It was ever thus.

- Was it?
- Sterling was the escort for his first wife.

A very bitter, brutal divorce.

Paulina.

Excuse me?

Oh, we got
Sterling's phone records.

They're still in touch.

How wonderful.

Uh, I had heard otherwise.

My mistake.

Oh, that's okay.

You can't know everything,
can you?

No.

Now, if you'll excuse me,

I have to coordinate
the takedown of the ball

amidst this most macabre
complication.

Of course.

The deb world awaits.

Sterling Barlowe was
a grade-A son of a bitch,

the worst husband I ever had,

and I'm glad he's dead.

Can you think of anyone
who would want to hurt Sterling?

Hmm.

We'll be checking your alibi.

Sterling's phone records
show he called you

right before his death.

But that doesn't mean you were
on good terms, does it?

Does this sound like good terms?

Where the hell are you, witch?

They told me you're here.

He was waiting for you? Why?

Beats me. I wouldn't be caught
dead in that crowd.

- Too soon?
- Yeah.

Well, if there's nothing else,
I'd like to go.

Unless you'll let me see
the crime scene photos. Please.

No.

I do have one more thing.

Um, your deb ball in 1982...

it got a big spread in Dress Up.

Do you remember Izzy Langford?

Oh, I don't.

See my smile?

That was the beginning
of the evening.

Probably the only good date
I ever had with Sterling.

And even then, I vaguely recall

I wasn't the only one
he sent home crying that night.

He liked to spread
his jerk around.

But look who's crying now.

And by that, I mean dead.

- Anything else?
- No, thanks.

We'll be in touch
if we have to be.

- I want to sage the room.
- I don't like to judge,

but everyone we're meeting
lately is the worst.

Why the trip down memory lane
with the magazine?

I think Izzy knew Sterling
better than she's saying.

She wouldn't let Plum
into the ball

until he forked over
a truckload of cash.

Izzy seemed surprised
when we told her

that Sterling and Paulina
were still in touch.

And why did Sterling
call Paulina,

thinking she was at the ball?

- Coroner's report.
- Ooh.

So we're not going
with the smarmy kid

with the bloody sword
in his hand?

Uh...

Nope.

Hi. I happen to know
the editor of Dress Up,

theGisela Mott,
and I thought you'd like a copy.

How kind of you to come
to my home unannounced.

I also know Gisela.

Oh. Of course you do.

- Thank you for the old magazine.
- Oh, um,

why did Sterling
leave Paulina a voicemail

asking where she was
at the ball?

Maybe Paulina was at the ball.

No. We confirmed
that she was 11 courses

into a 24-course tasting at
an absurdly priced restaurant.

Then it's a mystery.

But the voicemail...
it was so angry.

I told you it was
a ghastly relationship.

Ugh. Horrible.

But who gave Sterling the idea

that Paulina was there?

- Did Jules...?
- Darling?

Your phone hasn't stopped
ding-ding-dinging.

Damn it.

- Everything okay?
- Oh, I have to take this. Um,

Haydn Langford,
this is Elsbeth...

Doesn't matter.

Will you please see Elsbeth out?

And take off
that ridiculous hat.

Apologies.
She isn't always like...

well, no,
she is always like this.

Well, I don't mind. And I love
the hat, for what it's worth.

I was just playing
with my model trains,

but Izzy doesn't like me
to talk about that.

Did you just say "model trains"?

My family had a little bit
of a railroad monopoly,

so no one's actually worked
for decades.

- Oh.
- Hobbies are important.

One must do something
with their time.

Oh, I agree.

Although my principal hobby,
as of late,

is investigating murders.

Do you and Izzy
share any hobbies?

Izzy has her debutante ball.

Well, that's just one night.
What about the rest of the year?

You wouldn't believe the prep
that goes into it

for her and the debutantes.

Wow.

Yours and Izzy's hobbies...

they seem like
completely different worlds.

I know what you're thinking.

It's what everyone thinks.

Izzy and I don't
make sense together,

so she must have married me
for my money.

- Oh, no, I wasn't...
- I'm not offended.

I know she didn't get
the husband she really wanted.

Honestly, she never would have
glanced my way

if not for her father's
tragic death.

After which
her family had to uproot

to a modest four-bedroom
apartment on Third Avenue.

I imagine that must have been
hard for her.

What people don't know is,

I was there
to pick up the pieces

when Izzy felt humiliated.

We got married,

and she devoted her life
to the ball.

To make right
what happened to her that night.

- That night? Did she...?
- Trip during the waltz?

Silly thing for a girl
to get upset about,

but you know
how young women are.

Anyway, choo-choo time is over,
so if you don't mind.

Yes.

- I will just disembark.
- No, no, keep it.

- Really?
- And here.

For you.

Thank you, Haydn.

This was so fun.

And much needed.

Oh, one more thing, Izzy.

Brando took a lot of au naturel

selfies in a room

by himself at the time
of Sterling's murder.

And the angle of the stab wound

shows that it was done
by someone much shorter

than Brando.

He has that good height,

like you said.

So Brando has been cleared!

Next stop,

Investigation Station.

A-a crybaby?

I mean, going through everything
I ever said about my childhood?

I mean, the-the-the depths
to which they'll go to.

I mean, I had to work
through college. I...

Sorry, but I need you to listen.

The ads aren't gonna stop.

Winnie Crawford has proof
behind what they're saying.

You spoke with her?

Wait, this could just be
Winnie using you again.

No, Alec, please, you need
to give me more credit.

You're right.

They have proof,

so you can either own up
to the truth now

or go down for it later.

Well, can't you
at least own up to me?

So...

technically, I wasn't unhoused.

I had a fight with my folks,

and I ran away from home.

I spent a few nights
on the street.

But... the experience
was profound.

I mean, what I learned about
life in just those few nights

made me want to be
a public servant.

When I told the story...

it became this runaway train.

It made people care
about housing,

so I felt responsible
to keep sharing

and maybe growing the story
to raise awareness.

I meant no harm.

I'm glad you finally told me,

but what matters is, you tell
the truth to the public.

About everything.
New Yorkers deserve to know.

Oh, well, this is just politics.

No.

If you don't tell them, I will.

Everything I could find
on Izzy "Isadora" Klintock.

Oh, great.

- You good?
- Tip-top.

So... all roads keep
leading back to Isadora.

Her husband was so nice,

but he made it sound
like Izzy's life

really changed for the worse
after her father's death.

According to this police report,
Atticus Klintock died

- in a car accident on April 3, 1982.
- Oh.

Wait.

That's the day
after Izzy's deb ball.

That feels very connected.

Why can't people just be honest
about their past?

Well, that's where we come in.

Right.

We should talk to her family.

Here's an obituary
for Izzy's mother.

Survived by daughters
Isadora Langford

and Raina Sullivan.

But Izzy told us
she didn't have any sisters.

We're stepsisters.

When I was ten,
her mom married my dad.

Isadora doesn't like
to acknowledge her past,

including me.

And can I just say
that debutante balls

are a disgusting display
of wealth consolidation?

And beautiful gowns.

I mean, Izzy's obsession
with them

is like some sort
of trauma response.

Because of her father's death
the day after her ball?

Not exactly. My stepmom told me

that sweet little Isadora
stole her dad's credit card

to buy a deb dress.
I mean, it was on sale,

but her dad was having
major financial issues.

So Isadora lied,
said the dress was borrowed,

planning to return it
after the ball,

but some snobby rich kid saw

the 50% off tag sticking out
and decided to make fun of her.

And then he cut her dress strap
with his sword

so that the dress would fall
"half off."

Ugh. That's terrible.

- A sword?
- When her dad found out

about the dress, he was livid.

He died on his way
trying to return it.

- His car got hit by a semi.
- Hold on,

was Sterling Barlowe
who teased Izzy?

- This guy right here?
- Mm, I don't know

his face, but, yeah,
I remember the name.

What a jerk.

Wait.

The straps.

Captain, we have the motive.

There she is. Arrest her.

You stole Buffy Winn Sinclair's

heirloom debutante gloves
from my home.

I did not.

This woman entered my domicile

under the ridiculous guise
of liking model trains

and then absconded with the
gloves i-in one of her sacks.

Well, I do like model trains,
and I prefer mittens.

You went to Mrs. Langford's home
without Detective Taylor?

Furthermore,
she and Detective Tall...

- Taylor.
- They spoke to my stepsister Raina, whom I barely know.

She knows you well enough
to tell us the story

of Sterling Barlowe
damaging your deb gown in 1982.

I totally forgot it was him.

You forgot it was
theSterling Barlowe?

I was wrong, Captain.

You should award Elsbeth
a medal of honor

for her police work
in uncovering that

17-year-old rich kids are jerks.

Well, you know, I had a feeling
I didn't like Sterling,

but I could never put
my finger on why.

So I thank you
for the clarification.

And you carried that grudge
all these years.

Grudge? More like a gift.

Oh, I know what Haydn told you

between blows
of your obnoxious whistles.

He's a very sweet man who needs
a little embellishment

to make himself feel heroic.

And whilst I obviously
blocked out

what happened to me that night,

I carried the lesson.

It pushed me to achieve.

I now run the most prestigious
debutante ball in the nation.

And I'm happily married
to Haydn. He's a very good man.

Who happens to have
multigenerational wealth.

I love Haydn.

So, in a way,

Sterling was the best thing
that ever happened to me.

Hmm. I wish I could thank him.

Too bad he had a sword
plunged through his chest.

Oh, my, what graphic language.

There is no way I could have
gone off and murdered someone

and still have had
that elaborate ball

run so perfectly that night.

It ran perfectly for you.

The value of the missing gloves

should put the charges
in the felony category.

Arrest her or find those gloves.

Oh, I promise you, Isadora,

we won't rest until we do.

You'd better find those gloves.

What did you do?

Alec has been missing events
and ignoring messages.

The last thing he attended on
his calendar was time with you.

If he's dead in your house,
I'm going to be very upset.

We talked.
I gave him an ultimatum.

Oh, God, you broke
his heart? Now?

No.

I told Alec he had
to tell voters the truth

about him not being unhoused,
or I will.

This isn't an after-school
special, Elsbeth.

This is mayoral politics.

I know exactly
what this is, Marissa.

So you know Alec is the best
candidate and hope for New York.

But New Yorkers
don't know who he is.

Untruths are-are woven
into his story.

He's selling a lie.

He's selling a future
for the people of this city.

A future you may have
taken away from them.

Your fight is with Alec, not me.
I won't support lies.

This coming from someone

who defended Peter Florrick
in Chicago.

I am one voter who hopes
Alec resumes campaigning soon.

We're set up in the
interrogation room. You good?

Never better. Let's go.

The Winn Sinclairs

won't stop calling
about the gloves.

You sure you didn't take them?
It'd be a huge help if you did.

Oh, I'm sure.

Izzy insists that the ball
went perfectly,

but this is the second mistake
that I'm aware of.

The gloves and the name thing.

That was actually my fault.

- What happened?
- Mr. Fischer...

sorry, Sir Fischer...
got knighted.

But American citizens
can't use titles,

so he got British citizenship.

He told me right after I gave
Izzy the presentation cards.

So I ran back and put the
title change card on the desk,

but Izzy must not have seen it

because she was dealing
with Buffy's gloves,

so Izzy called him Mr.
During the presentation.

It was a total disaster.

I'd be beside myself, too.

You saw Izzy when you put
the card on the table?

No. When I heard

the mistake, I went back
to the office.

I saw the card
and threw it in the fire.

Izzy would have blamed me
and fired me.

And I totally deserve it,
don't I?

I remember those fires.

Izzy insisted. Uh, she thought
it was a romantic throwback

to past balls.

Or a great place
to destroy evidence.

- Mm.
- Please don't tell Izzy.

I'd love to take over
the ball one day.

- Sounds like a blast.
- It is.

My hair falls out
from stress sometimes,

but it usually grows back.

Oh.

Izzy did something
with those gloves.

The hotel wants to open up
the crime scene for a wedding.

Can we clear it?

No. Not just yet.

Hello?

Presenting

Miss Elsbeth
Gudmundsdottir Tascioni.

Of Ms. Tascioni's
many accomplishments:

lawyer, mother,
can nap anywhere.

Knock it off. You messaged me
that you found Buffy's gloves.

Where are they?

And why are you dressed
in that ridiculous outfit?

It helped me solve the case.
Oh, and thank you, Jules.

You got all
my information correct,

unlike Izzy on the night
of Sterling's murder.

I'm leaving.

Oh, wait,
not without your dress.

Well, the dress
that you photoshopped

onto your deb gown
in your office.

Jules found it
hidden in your desk.

But this strapless dress
is from 1996,

14 years after your ball.

TheGisela Mott found it for us.

Your original debutante dress,
as appears here,

- had straps.
- Your motive

became even clearer to me
when I realized

that you photoshopped your dress

to erase the humiliation

that Sterling
inflicted upon you.

You wanted to make perfect

the night that you say
defined your life.

Oh. Speaking of balls,

first on the program...

- Program?
- Pomp.

Putting all of this on,

it made me realize how much
pressure is put on a young deb.

On a young you.

And then Sterling

ruined your dress.

And in your mind exposed your
family's financial troubles.

You give that man
too much credit.

Your father dying...
it was a tragedy,

so you married

sweet Haydn

and you reclaimed your status.

And then you took control

of the ball,

and you wouldn't invite Plum.
Oh, no, no, no, no.

That is, until Sterling

forced his way in
with his money.

Proving that money
really does rule this world.

And then you had an entire year

to prepare
for Sterling's murder.

To prepare for the ball.

Next on the program...

Circumstance... tial evidence.

You set up Plum with Brando,

knowing Sterling
hated new money.

Then you texted Brando
from Gwen's phone,

signing it "Dash Hot Mom."
But who signs their texts?

You do.

You responded to me,
"If you insist.

Dash Izzy."

- It's good manners.
- You reinstated

the sword tradition
and had fires everywhere.

You made sure Jules
saw you look for gloves

in the office as an alibi,

and then you took
Brando's sword from the hall.

But you weren't perfect
that night.

Jules came back

to the office
with a title change card

while you were in
the other suite with Sterling.

And you didn't take into account

Buffy wearing
important heirloom gloves.

They were disgusting
old gloves from her Aunt Jackie.

Aunt Jackie O.

Yes, the.

She was a friend of the family,

and everyone called her
Aunt Jackie. So cute.

But you couldn't return
the gloves because...

You threw them into the fire
after you killed Sterling.

The pearl buttons
survived the flames.

Expensive things tend to last.

Here's your escort.

He called me Half-Off.

After everything he did to me,

he couldn't even
remember my name.

- You'd better turn on the news.
- Oh.

Is it our case?

New York City mayoral candidate
Alec Bloom is set to make

an announcement regarding
the state of his campaign.

There's speculation
he may drop out of the race.

Drop out?

Maybe.

Or maybe he'll be that
rare politician who comes clean.

Or maybe neither.

Or maybe both.

Maybe.

The question becomes,
what will you do?

Here's Alec Bloom now.